On the surface, it makes sense to label Skepticism’s Stormcrowfleet (1995) and Thergothon’s Stream From the Heavens (1994) as companion albums. They’re often cited as twin landmarks in the foundation of funeral doom, and both feature the glacial pacing and ubiquitous keyboards that would become the blueprint for thousands bands that followed.
That’s a fair assessment, but it sort of omits the fact that Stream actually recorded in 1992, giving Thergothon a good leg up on the title of innovator. It’s also a bit of a disservice to each album’s distinct qualities. Whereas Stream’s gloom felt more gothic in nature, like a funeral shroud draped over crumbling castle ruins, Stormcrowfleet had an alien airiness that established Skepticism as the ultimate soundtrack for a dying cosmos slowly eking out it’s last breaths.
Despite outlasting their Finnish brethren, who split up shortly after Stream, Skepticism haven’t exactly been the most prolific dudes on the planet. Ordeal is just their fifth full-length album, and the first since 2008, but considering how dense each of their albums are, it’s understandable. It takes time to accumulate as much mass as Skepticism drops on your head with every release.
Ordeal proudly continues the band’s tradition of pervasive weirdness, refusing, despite their clear affiliation with doom metal, to adhere to any of its traditional structures or moods. “You” kicks off the proceedings with the now familiar, almost comforting, strains of Eero Pöyry’s keys, and ferries us quickly to the classic, ebbing riffage the band is known for. Everything you’ve grown accustomed to is still here, from Matti Tilaeus’s deathly growls to the obtuse imagery and lyrics. Thergothon may have invented fire, but Skepticism figured out how to cook meat with it.
That said, one thing that will quickly stand out is the clearer, more wide-open sound. Recorded and filmed in front of a live audience (there will be a DVD release along with the album) last January, Ordeal isn’t quite as suffocating as past albums, both in terms of production and the songwriting itself. There are multiple sections where most of the band drops out entirely, leaving just the gentle strumming of guitarist Jani Kekarainen. It’s also hard not to notice the slightly clearer and more accessible melodies. But hearing the band operate with this newfound space is actually pretty special.
This is a much grander, sweeping, and ultimately engaging Skepticism than we’ve heard before, as though they’ve finally found the pinnacle of balance in their sound. “The Road” in particular features some of the most uplifting key segments I’ve ever heard on a Skepticism record. They never sound “happy” exactly, but they do sound like they have a pulse, which, after so many years spent crafting some of the bleakest music in our solar system, is an encouraging sign of life from this band.
That said, this is still Skepticism, and much of Ordeal is still just that. If you still need those one of those utterly dark moments where it feels like all the light is rapidly draining out of a hole in the corner of the room, then “The Departure” has you covered. The rest won’t exactly fail you in this department, but you might be a little surprised at just how alive they sound.
8.5/10
